


Things of Desire

by Pugsly123nine



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Fallen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 05:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pugsly123nine/pseuds/Pugsly123nine
Summary: The fic in which Dredgen Yor has not yet lost his place, and meets a Risen by the name of Jaren Ward.





	Things of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write, and only one of the many things I planned to write about this rare pair. I have other WIPs that I need to finish and hash out, this just happened to be one of the first. But regardless, I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> Big thanks to KingSnakesss on Twitter for their wonderful art of these two, it was a huge inspiration for the characters descriptions, with so little cannon information on them.

Rezyl met the other while searching for more Light-bearing Risen to whom he could led to the City. The more hands on board means less infighting, and a greater chance of success and protection for the City. The City that is currently under heavy construction and fire from Fallen. To add to the blow, mysterious mechanical beings were beginning to flow into their space, also causing problems for the soon to be a homeland for the steadily growing Risen that were constantly coming in. It meant more protection, but it also meant more attention was being drawn in.

Fallen have lately become far more aggressive as of late- more than just scavenging around. The threat of them overcoming the City was great, and Earth's Last City was lacking in hands to protect itself from the Fallen- and itself. Rezyl’d dealt well with the various factions and groups fighting for control over the City’s internal infrastructure, but enough became too much eventually and he needed some air. Finding recruits was more or less an excuse to escape.

So he'd left in his ship, choosing to land in places at random and directed some of those he met towards the City. He's even helped others find ships or given rides just to ensure they get there.

He'd gone back out just after dropping off a Lightless man, woman, and their kids. He had said goodbye, and wished them well. They told him he was a hero, and he smiled and waved them off to a new life. Whether it'd be a good path, or one that would fall to disaster, he wasn't sure yet. The City didn't know yet either. But they were a part of that hope that the City would thrive.

Then he was back out to find more.

He ended up in the EDZ, close to a place many called the Cosmodrome. Decrepit cars, buildings and skeletons of fallen people littered the area. The latter made this the perfect ground for Ghost to find their companions, and coincidently, the perfect place to look for newly Risen.

When he spotted no-one there except for some testy Fallen, he made his way towards a new spot. He passed by broken up roads and used mainly the dirt trails to get to new places. Like many of his other excursions, it took him days to finally run into someone.

He was close to mountains, the terrain was rocky and partially flat with a few tiny group of trees, with a large forest just off the other side of the mountains. The wind was strong here, sky blurred with snow that was falling around him, and open land. He was hoping to cross over a valley off towards the north of him, and get to the other side and hopefully meet people sometime soon.

He was approaching the base of the valley, and squinted down into it. The snow played with his vision, but he could only distinctly make out the shape of something headed up his way. Rezyl froze when he spotted cloth flapping through the air. Instinctively, he drew his weapon, thinking it was a Fallen Captain, or any sort of threat, up until he did a double take.

The Fallen Captain turned out to be a cloaked human calmly walking along, footsteps sure and unbothered by the snow, and the person seemed unconcerned even when their attention seemed to focus in on his gun that was pointed at them. It was hard to tell beneath the cloak, and the blank helmet didn't help, on who this person was. Could be a newly Risen or someone who has been to the City already.

The person, without any doubt or hesitance just started making their way to him, hands peeking out, purposefully, beneath the edge of the cloak to show they didn't carry a weapon, or at least, that they weren't holding it. He silently put his away as the person headed up towards him.

He could tell, even from the distance that this Guardian was different. He was poised like a snake, but friendly as a bird or a cat that you could sometimes see around the City. There was a hint of a threat and danger in the air surrounding the stranger, but his posture was open and inviting. Mixed signals like that made for dangerous people.

He paused, seeing the familiar gleam of a gun peering out from beneath the cloak. A hand cannon, he'd thought, squinting to try to see it. All he could see was gold, and some engravings. Nice piece.

Even though the other Lightbearer didn't seem like he'd draw the gun from the holder on his thigh and shoot him, he'd still learned to be cautious, and make sure to keep his own hand cannon in sight, but holstered too.

Rezyl approached easily enough, hands clear the same way that the stranger's were, and the other Guardian, a Hunter, he'd be called later on, waited patiently as he did. Rezyl could see the stillness and tautness of the other man's shoulders, but the guy still didn't make a reach for his gun. Rezyl wished he could see the face behind the mask just so he could read the mood. Right now it felt like he was in a silent standoff.

Rezyl stopped just a few feet from the other man and looked down at him, his hands held out in a sign of peace.

Like most others he's met, he towers over this Guardian. Rezyl was all muscle and bulk while the other, a man, was lean, hard muscles, even if he was of a smaller mass.

He held a hand out. "My name is Rezyl Azzir."

The blank helmet stared at the hand for a moment before slowly grabbing and shaking his hand. That lapse of a second wasn't nervousness, like he'd seen of others who he'd walked up to. It was calculated, and poised with a surety most did not have.

"Jaren. Jaren Ward." The voice wasn't pretty by any means, but the way he spoke with an air of caution, all while sounding awkward, like he wasn't used to conversation, amused Rezyl, just a bit.

"How is it out here?" Rezyl imagined that if he could have seen the man's face, it'd be confused if the tilt of his head was to go by.

"Rough." Rezyl hummed, waiting for Jaren to elaborate. 

He didn't.

Rezyl shifted, watching the ground beneath his feet follow as he tried to think up the best way to propose this Risen to head to the City. He decided to be upfront about it.

"Do you know of the City? We're looking for hands. Every new person is a seed of hope for its success." His words seemed to wither the more Jaren stared at him. He wasn't sure  _ why _ , it just seemed. . .difficult. This conversationally inept Risen in front of him didn't help much either. He fully expected Jaren to shrug and move on, but he stayed there. It still reminded Rezyl of a standoff, one he wasn't sure how to face.

After a few awkward moments, Jaren spoke up again.

"I've visited. Did some work on the wall, just. . .needed some fresh air." Rezyl wasn't sure whether to be relieved that he could be done with this lopsided conversation, or worried that he doesn't know how to back off. 

Jaren tilted his head again, the helmet still hiding his face before he turned and started walking off. Despite the clear dismissal, Rezyl hesitated before following him.  _ Drawn in like a moth to a flame _ , Rezyl thought bitterly.

Jaren looked back at him for a moment, before slowing down to walk by Rezyl's side. Neither of them questioned the other, which was fine with him. He took Jaren as a kind of 'goes with the flow' sort of guy like many of the other Risen and citizens of the currently under-construction Last City of Earth.

Despite his earlier plan of a route, he followed Jaren back up towards the mountains, close to some cliffs, and he watched the sun slowly sink behind the ground as the mountains swallowed it up, and the dark night began to creep in.

They came up to a narrow path, and Jaren stepped forward and led him up the narrow, and steep, pathway. He was grateful for it, the rough terrain looked deadly if someone was to trip and fall over the cliff side, and the pair carefully walked up it until the ground spanned outwards around what looked like good grounds for a camp. The walls around the back and side even prevented the snowfall from completely covering the place. They were perfect to prevent snow from smothering any sort of warmth from them.

He was gauging the area, happy with the cover, but wanted to determine the threat level of resting here when he heard the familiar sound of something transmatting back behind him.

When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of Jaren bending over and setting up a pair of sleeping bags with some blankets held in his arms. He separated them and make sure they had equal coverings. He didn't mention it, but he noticed Jaren silently place the last extra blanket on one sleeping bag, before shoving it towards Rezyl.

He nodded thanks, grateful that Jaren would willing supply him with some sleeping arrangements. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the extra blanket sitting there.

Jaren stood, and made his way back towards the narrow pathway, tossing a look back over his shoulder and called out something about collecting wood.

The offer to go help nearly slipped past his mouth, but held it in when he saw Jaren reach for the gun that Rezyl had seen peeking out just beneath the man's cloak. Jaren, he could tell, could handle himself, besides, Rezyl might as well start setting up a good perch for lookout during the night, and get the sleeping bags in place around the fire.

Jaren was out of sight almost before he blinked, and with the chores lined up for him, he set himself to work, keeping himself occupied as the night began to descend over the land.

A good while after Jaren left, he heard gunshots. He was on his feet immediately, ready to run out to help Jaren, but paused. The shots were far off and didn’t sound like they came from Fallen or any other species. If he had to guess, the gunshots were from the weapon he had seen earlier on Jaren’s hip. Reluctantly, but still poised in case he heard anything else, he sat down and waited, ears open incase he heard any signs of distress.

The stars were out in full by the time Jaren had returned with a heavy armload of wood that was then dispensed into a pile that Rezyl had put between the two sleeping bags. He wanted to check the other for injuries or damage, but Jaren looked unscathed. Rezyl decided to leave the other Risen be.

He sat down as Jaren lit the fire using a lighter that his Ghost transmatted out to him. Jaren followed, sitting opposite of him with his hands held out towards the fire, warming gloved hands.

He hesitated, still unsure how to really communicate with Jaren, but turns out he didn't have to make the first move. Still, the conversation was blunt and difficult to keep up.

"That piece, what’s it like?" Rezyl had been surprised at first when Jaren didn't ask about his gun upfront. Most who saw it really only saw the beauty of it and was curious about it, but not so much the thorns that came with said beauty.

Silently, keeping his eyes on Jaren in case he startled the other, he pulled out his Rose.

The carved petals gleamed brightly in the fire, the thorns glaring wickedly in return. Jaren looked at it, hummed, before getting out his own piece. To his surprise, Jaren handed the weapon over the fire, into Rezyl’s hands. His hands brushed against Jaren’s as he took it gently from his grasp, and flitted his gaze over it quizzically.

He took in the solid weight of it, twisting it to and fro, inspecting it. He idly wondered if this was Jaren’s odd idea of introducing himself to Rezyl.

It was heavy and admittedly simple, but he could sense the power in the barrel, the lightness of the trigger, and the heavy blow that such a gun could deal. In the fire’s light, he could read the Tex Mechanica label engraved on its sides.

He handed it back, and Jaren let it fall into his lap, the gold gleaming in the fire like a flame no longer dependent on wood or sustenance. It was wild, with the promise of power and fiery destruction. Rezyl wouldn't admit it, but he was a little glad it wasn't his burden to carry, unlike the Rose. To each their own downfall, he’d suppose.

"The Last Word. And that one?" Jaren named out for him. When Rezyl glanced at the wide barrel again, and remembered the loud, echoing gunshots fired earlier, he could see why. No one gets up from a wound that gun could deal.

"Rose."

"Fitting." Jaren fidgeted. 

Rezyl was still curious about The Last Word's story, how Jaren got possession of it, but decided not to ask, if the somber way he’d said the name was to go off of, even the name left a lot of things unsaid. Some things bore too many deeply rooted terrible memories that was best left unasked. He was glad when Jaren didn't question him of his weapon either.

Rezyl glanced over to the rock that he had decided would be a good lookout spot. It faced towards the cliffside and open air, but the angle of it was also perfect to peer around the narrow path that leads up here, so someone, or something, wouldn't be able to sneak up on them. Rezyl stood up, looming over the fire and Jaren while he brushed off the mountain dirt from his armor.

"You want me to take first watch? You should get some rest after gathering the wood. You were out for awhile."

Jaren tilted his helmet up at him, paused to think it over and reluctantly nodded at him. Rezyl nodded stiffly and went over to the rock and took up his position, Rose holstered, and chose a simple rifle from his Ghost’s inventory to use.

He heard another transmat noise, and glanced over curiously at Jaren. He froze in place, eyes wide beneath his own helmet when he realised it was Jaren’s helmet that had been transmatted off.

Blue eyes, bright as the sky didn't even glance at him as Jaren laid down, shutting those crystal eyes off from the world. In the light of the fire, Rezyl could make out the older youth of his face, the soft curving jaw, the stubble along the bottom half of his face and the stark blonde mess of hair that was buried into the sleeping bag's pillow.

Rezyl wasn’t much for looks, he along with most other Risen in the City wore helmets, but it was a surprise nonetheless. Stray bits of hair fell into the corners of Jaren’s mouth and the man already looked fast asleep; it took all of Rezyl’s willpower not to get up and swipe them away.

He turned his eyes towards the night sky. Darkness gleamed with silver lighting while the stars settled more like freckles upon the nights face as time trickled by.

He waited until the moon was far past the center of the sky, he’d guess it was 2 am or so, before daring to go wake Jaren up. Not necessarily because he didn’t trust the man, he wouldn’t go putting his life in the loner’s gloved hands, but he could tell that Jaren could use the sleep. The same could be said for him, as his Ghost later told him.

He placed a warm hand and gently nudged Jaren’s sleeping form, stepping back a step when blue eyes fluttered open, heavy and dark with sleep still embedded in the pretty irises. Jaren didn’t ask anything, he simply got up and stumbled in the dark like a zombie while he took up Rezyl’s old post on top of the rock.

To Rezyl’s surprise, Jaren transmatted out a sniper rifle, and laid down onto his chest and peered through the scope as he began his shift. Rezyl watched him for a moment, watching the other’s cloak settle in the wind, blowing softly while Jaren remained still as a mountain.

Rezyl shifted into his bag, glancing over past the fire at Jaren one more time before closing his eyes and let sleep overtake him while Jaren kept watch.

The next morning, he woke up to blue eyes peering down at him, with Jaren’s gold hair shining in his eyes from the morning sun shining on it. Jaren sat back as Rezyl sat up, stretching.

“Camp’s packed up. You heading to the City?” Rezyl paused, glancing over at Jaren as the man stretched too, muscles popping as he did.

The man was right, he was due back in the City, he had a duty to the people and Risen who dwelled there, but something about the way Jaren spoke made it seem like this would be a goodbye, not necessarily that Jaren would come back as well.

“Are you?” Rezyl couldn’t help but ask. Jaren tilted his head towards him, blue eyes flickering towards his face, meeting his gaze head on.

“No.” It took a lot of effort for him not to sigh. Despite everything telling him to leave Jaren be, to go back to his home, his duty, his responsibilities, he wanted to stay. The comfort of watching after Jaren, and him having Rezyl’s back in return was unfamiliar but a welcome feeling. It was different from the City, where he’d be the one protecting others with no one to guide him and keep him in check.

Rezyl pursed his lips, frowning beneath his helmet as Jaren kept meeting his eyes, unrepentant, and unmoving. Those eyes, crystal blue and clear in a way Rezyl’s mind never was, was piercing and comforting. He just wanted to stay.

Jaren wouldn’t leave, he’d come and go as he’d please, and Rezyl knew he couldn’t yet abandon all the work he’d done to help the City build up its foundation. 

“Will I be able to see you again? Would you let me travel with you when I have the time?”

Jaren looked at him again,head tilted upwards, not batting a lash when Rezyl took his helmet off, holding it on his hip. Jaren’s gaze flitted over his face for a moment, taking in his features, while Rezyl watched the open, thoughtful eyes turn like gears as Jaren thought it over.

“Yes.” Pleased with the answer, Rezyl settled with a small goodbye, with a promise of returning soon. He didn’t notice it, but Jaren’s eyes lit up a tiny bit at that.

Rezyl murmured a quick goodbye to Jaren, letting his Ghost set up a quick comms link with Jaren’s own before his Ghost brought his ship down from where it’d been in orbit. This time, when he glanced back at Jaren, Jaren was glancing over his shoulder, and gave him a quick wave, eyes carefully guarded but friendly, before turning and walking down along the path that he and Rezyl had scaled earlier.

It was a surprise to him when he felt a pang in his chest at the sight of Jaren treading off alone. He pursed his lips again, tugging the helmet back over his head before he transmatted into his ship and sped off back towards the City.

His first night back, all he could see were crystal blue eyes that shone even brighter than the Traveller and the awkward conversations that had one feeling like they were walking among mines, unknown where to step and navigate. The pain of not having that stubborn, comforting presence around him was stark compared to the almost cold atmosphere of the tower where many kept away from him simply because he was born of Light.

For awhile after that, he wrangled his way into the City’s heart, protecting it to the best of his abilities. Anytime it became too much, he would request missions to go off to find more Light-Bearers to arm the City with.In truth, he was visiting Jaren, spending time alone with the man, and doing what he could to provide company for him. Jaren opened up more the more time Rezyl spent with him, and Rezyl found himself yearning everytime he had to leave and o back to the City.

It took weeks before he could finally set down his papers and duties and head out for another retreat with Jaren. Over the comms, they’d agreed to meet in the Cosmodrome and Rezyl was surprised how light he felt and how much happier he felt when he wasn’t being bombarded with patrols around the wall, or fighting an internal war with the Factions of the City as they wrangled for different rules, laws, and power. All tiring, meaningless things.

It was night when he finally landed in the Cosmodrome, near a pile of rusted cars where he found Jaren sitting on top of one, head tilted up towards the stars.

Jaren turned when Rezyl’s foot accidentally nudged a rock out of its place and sent it tumbling down a hill. Jaren smiled, wide and bright when he approached, and Rezyl took off his helmet to do the same. Jaren laid his back down on top of the car hood, which prompted Rezyl to do the same.

Rezyl’s seen many things in his life, his many, repeated lives, but the stars twinkling in Jaren’s eyes were something he’d never thought to admire, or pay attention to. It was just as comforting as he remembered, seeing the light hues of them, back on top of that mountain, with the fire lit between them. It was the same now, and he settled beside Jaren, content with the silence that seemed to linger around Jaren’s frame.

He shifted when clouds started appearing in the horizon, and soon, were spilling across the stars. He was sure Jaren was asleep when the first drop fell, landing on his thigh, and he didn’t even flinch.

Throwing the caution he’d had around Jaren before, he scooped the Risen into his arms, and walked looking for a suitable camp out of the rain that was about to be released on them. Jaren didn’t even budge or wake as he carried him around.

Eventually, he found a small cave barely big enough for them both to rest in. It was right when he was setting Jaren down when those baby blues opened and Rezyl was left staring at Jaren.

Rezyl opened his mouth, explanation at the edge of his lips, but ended up just opening and closing his mouth rapidly like a fish out of water. Jaren chuckled, a sound he’d never heard, and froze when Jaren wrapped his arms around Rezyl’s neck, pulled him down, and pecked his cheek, right before Jaren tapped the other side with his hand and let him go.

“Scared of me getting rained on? Or scared of waking me up?” Bemused, and trying his best to hide his embarrassment, and pleasure, Rezyl chuckled as well.

“Perhaps it’s both.” Jaren raised a brow, smile tilting his lips upward.

“Hero can protect his city and home from danger and death, but he’s scared to wake little ol’ me up? Shame.” 

Rezyl laughed in earnest, getting another smile out of Jaren. “What can I say? I prefer not having a knife to my throat, or a fist in my face.”

Rezyl had had that happen one too many times, he wasn’t keen on scaring Jaren, though with a smile on his face, flitting around the soft edges of his expression, Rezyl didn’t think it was much of a problem.

Jaren’s eyes closed again, and Rezyl paused, watching as the other’s breath slowly evened out as sleep came crashing back over Jaren, slowly taking him away.

He sat down on the other side, back aching from the sharp rocks that seemed to penetrate through any weakness/uncovered parts of armor. Rezyl thought that Jaren must be feeling them too, slumped over as he was, but the other showed no signs but a calm peacefulness. Silently, with the rain becoming only background noise, he examined Jaren’s face, touching the cheek that Jaren had kissed with one hand while he pondered over it.

The next few encounters turned out to be more of scouting trips and adventures rather than peaceful quiet time alone with each other. It was fine with Rezyl, he had gotten to see Jaren in action, and he was impressed. The smaller male turned out to be good at combat. He wielded the Last Word like an unstoppable sword, crushing anything that Jaren set his sights on.

Over those encounters, Jaren’d flirt and tease which never failed to embarrass (and please) Rezyl. On the off chance that Jaren wasn’t measly messing around, he decided to flirt back one night when they were stationed in the woods out in the EDZ.

Rezyl watched the red searing flames of their campfire burn in Jaren’s eyes, the startling blue hue that he was accustomed to dancing with flames as they quietly spoke to one another, Rezyl’s thigh touching Jaren’s as they sat side by side, telling stories and recalling memories. Eventually, the scars on Rezyl’s face became the subject after he told Jaren of an early battle with the Hive, and how one of the scars on his face never healed after a rez, and simply closed with time.

“Was it painful to keep it?” Jaren looked at it, eyes curious and a bit surprised, like he hadn’t noticed it until it was brought up. Most people seemed to notice it firsthand, then again, Jaren doesn’t seem like the type to bat an eyelash at grizzly wounds.

“Didn’t have a choice. It stung, but healed soon enough.” Jaren’s eyes narrowed at it, like he was trying to imagine what it must have been like. Silently, he grabbed a hand that had been resting lazily on a thigh and brought Jaren’s hand up to the scar, letting him trace over the deep, and prominan, indent of his scar.

And just as he would expect of the smaller man, he gave Rezyl one of his flirty, crooked smiles and said, “At least it didn’t do anything to deter that handsome face.”

Rezyl bit his cheek. “Your, um, your eyes compliments yours. Your face, I- Um . . .”

Jaren leaned back, hand falling back into his lap, before a grin broke out and he laughed. Rezyl’s face heated up when he was the wetness gathering in Jaren’s eyes. When they opened, he was greeted with wide, blue eyes crinkling as Jaren smiled, wide, at him.

“That’d the best you had, Hero?” He smiled at the familiar nickname, before shrugging sheepishly.

“I meant it. They’re pretty. They suit you.” He froze, unlike any other battle he’s fought in, this seemed like an uphill battle, and he was losing. Jaren’s smile only ever kept getting wider, even as he leaned into Rezyl’s space.

Jaren’s head was tilted up towards him, even though they were sitting down, Rezyl still seemed to tower over Jaren. He could see the question burning in those baby blues, alongside with their campfire.

_ Would you kiss me? _

Fear hammering hard in his chest, so  _ different _ than any fear or doubt he’d felt before, he cupped Jaren’s face in his hand, reeled him in, and pressed scarred lips to soft ones. Jaren’s eyes closed, lashes fluttered just barely on his skin, setting his blood scorching through him, with only Jaren’s hands on him, lips pressed to Rezyl’s own, keeping him grounded. Despite the somewhat windy air around them in the forest, he found himself lacking it, and found himself not caring, desperate to keep Jaren pressed closed, safe in his arms. Eventually they had to part, and Jaren was to first one to do so.

Jaren didn’t go too far though. He rested his forehead against Rezyl’s eyes still closed as his chest rose in fell, taking back the air that Rezyl had taken. When Jaren’s eyes opened, Rezyl looked into them, lost for words.

Jaren seemed to realise what he’d done to Rezyl. He smiled wide again, pressing kiss-swollen lips back against Rezyl’s as the air seemed to rise up around them.


End file.
